Numbers in Perspective

#sol22: March 8th

$4.59 a gallon

$74.00 for a tank of gas

5,068 miles to Kyiv, Ukraine from my home

3,010,209 Kyiv citizens 

2 weeks into the Russian invasion

44,000,000 terrified citizens of Ukraine 

~2,000,000 Ukraine people are now refugees.

-----------

$4.59 a gallon is a price I can pay.

(But, seriously, I might start driving less.)

 

Yellow Ribbon

#sol22: March 7th

     The sun was shining brightly that fall day.  We were dressed in yellow, to make a yellow ribbon for osteosarcoma, and the trees seemed to get the message.  Two schools came together, an elementary school and a middle school, both united to support an ill 7th grader.  Students with yellow shirts and yellow ribbons, pinned to their shirts.  Many asking, "Is he here?  I hope he sees us."  I just kept saying, "I'm sure he does."  

     That day, I didn't know my role in supporting our student, or our staff.  I had never personally taught him, or his sister, but he is still our student.  So, I came to stand with his classmates and his teachers.  It's all I could think to do.  I remember taking pictures that day, thinking that somehow commemorating the event would make some small difference.  Who knows it if it did, but I felt like I needed to do something.  

     That picture, above, is the perspective I had that day, me standing in the ribbon.  One of many, but all for one.  

     This weekend, the call came.  Teachers, filled with grief, sharing the news of his passing.  

     Once again, I feel like I'm standing there, not quite sure what to do, but feeling like something needs to be done.  All I can think about is his family, and our teachers as they welcome students back tomorrow with one less classmate in attendance.  What I wouldn't give for that fall day, when perhaps there still seemed like there was hope.  But, I think what we felt that day was united support, and possibly a hope for a miracle or perhaps a peaceful goodbye.  He had already fought so hard, and so bravely.

      A friend of mine posted a St. Baldricks fundraiser the morning he passed, so I donated in his memory.  She, her wife, and her son shaved their heads that same day, and I hope the money raised by them and many others helps find an end to losses like these.  But, in the meantime, I guess we must just stand together again, and support each other the best we can, as grief always presents itself differently.  Unlike the sun shining brightly that day, grief is all cloud covered and waits to cast it's shadow at unexpected moments.  But, when the clouds pass, Amadeo will still be with us in our hearts,  as we look towards the sun.

Spectator in Stride

#sol22: March 6

     

     "Come on guys!  It's time to go watch Dad!"

     "Can we sit in the car?"

     "Only until Dad should be finishing."

     "Ok."

      This is the easiest race our little Curb Crew has each year to support my husband, the marathon runner.   This race is an 8k at the park district down the street.  My husband drives there himself and starts at 8am, and we know to show up by 8:30.  If we get there by 8:15, we can usually get a pretty close parking spot, too.  So, we throw on some Irish gear, and head to the Running O' the Green.  

     "Mom, can I have your shamrock hat?"

     "Here you go."

     "I'm not wearing any green today."

     "Suit yourself."

      We get there and find a nice spot, and wait for about 10 minutes before my daughter sees the time and says that we'd better start making our way over to the finish line.  We get out of the car and walk over to some paving stones that overlook the running path as it winds around the park district.  My son and I stand on the pavers, and my daughter jumped down and walked closer to the path on the grass below.  And we waited...

      "Here he comes!" I shout.

      It looked like my daughter didn't see him at first, even though he was literally the only runner on the path.  But, then I realized she was hatching a plan to run with him.  Before I knew it, the two were running together as he turned that last bend.  She had become a spectator in stride with the competitor.   Of course, to see him finish the race, I needed to run through the parking lot to cut through to the finish.  That sweet family moment was cut short.

      "Mom!  Are you crazy?  You're running through a parking lot!  Cars drive here!" my son yelled as he, too, ran through a parking lot.

      "We'll be fine.  They're all running."

     We got back to the path just in time for my husband to run past us, and my daughter rejoined us.  He passed right in front of us.

      "Go, BOD!"

      "Mom, that's so cringy.  That's so loud."

      So this is spectating the Running O' the Green with a pre-teen and a new teen.  

 

Qubosity

#sol22: March 5th

     

     It was family game night, and we decided to play Qubosity.  You role the cubes, and then you have 30 seconds to go around the table to and name things that start with the letter we rolled.  

L

Me: Long Walk to Water (grabbed the Books cube)

K: Lakers (grabbed Sports Teams cube)

J: Lost key (grabbed Things in a Purse cube)

G: ....(thinking)....

Time's Up!  G took a chip, and we rolled the next letter.  We also rolled the cubes we had just grabbed and put them back into the middle to form new categories.

P

Me:.........

Me: Still thinking

Me: Come on!  Why can't I think of anything?

Me: Seriously?  How are there only 10 seconds left?

Me: Wow.  Think is embarrassing.

The timer went off, and my family just looked at me sympathetically before rolling a new letter.  My daughter did make sure I got my loser chip, though.   It made me wonder, is Friday night the best night for a teacher to be playing a timed word game?  Perhaps all the words in my teacher brain have been used, and Friday night should be a night of cognitive rest.  That, or P is just not my letter.

 

     

 

Dr. Blackwell

#sol22: March 4

      I was walking down the hallway, and a little girl was walking to the office on a delivery.  I said good morning, and then took a closer look.  She was wearing scrubs and a stethoscope around her neck.

     "Are you a doctor, or a nurse?" I asked her.

     "I am the first woman doctor.  My name is Elizabeth Blackwell."

      "Well, it's a pleasure to meet you, Elizabeth Blackwell."

Women's History Month is here!

 

Pickles

#sol22: March 3

     I was walking past this 6th grade classroom, and the teacher's question caught my eye.  

Pickles: Delicious or Gross?

     I immediately thought about the pickle Doritos that a friend recently brought to my house.  She had run to Walgreens to get juice boxes for our kids, and came back with a back of pickle flavored Doritos.  GROSS, right?

     I mean, it would have been rude not to try one.  So, I reached into the bag and took a bite.  A science experiment of sorts.  She looked at me kind of strange, not sure what my reaction was going to be.  At first, I must have made a face, because she said, "What do you think?"

     "They taste like Cool Ranch Doritos, but they are a little sour."

      Then I looked at the bag again.  "CRUCH SOUR PUNCH" was written in big bold letters.  I knew my assessment was fair.  When my sister arrived, I told her to try one.  Before I knew it, almost the whole bag was gone.  

Gross? It turns out, not really.

Delicious?  Not quite.

A little intriguing?  You bet.

     

 

Fruit Loopy

 

#sol22: March 2nd

     We went to my son's band concert, and of course had to celebrate with some ice cream.  We headed to our favorite ice cream parlor, The Plush Horse, and I looked up at the seasonal offerings.  There are some pretty regular ice cream flavor behaviors in my family...

My daughter: Moose Tracks

My son: Peppermint

My husband: Nothing

Me: A seasonal flavor

     With March now here, I was hoping for Irish Cream.  No such luck.  But, they did have Fruity Loopy.  I looked at my daughter, and I said, "Did I like Fruity Loopy?"  She looked confused, and I realized that I was going to need to rely on my memory alone.  But, it was failing me.  Were the Fruit Loops soggy when put in the ice cream?  Or were they just soft enough where they still seemed a bit like Fruit Loops?  I could ask for a taster, but there's plexiglass up.  I don't think we can even do that these days.  I was at a loss. Should I take the risk?

     I'm in such a state of decision overload that I couldn't even get a seasonal flavor of ice cream.  I chickened out and got chocolate peanut butter.  I knew that was going to be a tried and true treat.  I left Plush Horse feeling a little fruity loopy myself...